Hidden Truth
by elisheva
Summary: Tony has a secret...will he be able to hide the truth forever or is he willing to confess...eventually TIVA
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Note- I do not owe NCIS. If I did then I believe Michael Weatherly would be mine and I wouldn't have time to write! lol Enjoy!**

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Things never really were what they seemed. Take my team for instances. Timothy McGee _appeared_ quite confident when he was arguing some intelligent mumbo but I knew he was just a kid scared of messing up, in need of guidance and validation that he was right and people liked him.

My other partner, Ziva David, was currently glaring at her computer, a crease appearing when she squeezed her eyebrows together. She _insinuated_ that she was ready to kick anyone's ass who crossed her. In truth she was no longer so willing to be a killing machine and was less likely to maim you as she was to cut you with words.

Me, I was no different. The DiNozzo men were never short women. I liked them and they liked me. It _seemed_ that I was a womanizer "love them/leave them" type whose respect for women ran as deep as my ego. I rubbed my eyes as the truth of the matter jumped center stage.

I hadn't been on a single date in weeks. Months, really. Not because I had no prospect. I had plenty of opportunities I just suddenly had no desire.

"What?"

The sudden voice bitch-slapped me out of my thinking and made me jump in my desk chair. My eyes focused on Ziva's, who was glaring at me intently. "What?" I repeated dumbly.

"You are staring at me," she told me. "What seems to be your issue malfunction?"

I let that one go as I leaned back in my chair and gave her an easy smile. "I guess I just dazed out for a minute. Need help with something over there?"

She frowned as if she knew I was changing the subject on purpose but she gestured angrily to her computer. "This...THING is giving me pits."

"Fits," I corrected as I rose and walked the short distance to look at Ziva's screen. "The computer is giving you fits."

She nodded as she turned her head to look up at me as I came to sstand by her chair. "It has suddenly decided I can't spell and keeps replacing the word I want." She poked her pointer finger into the screen to make her point. "I _know_ what I am spelling, Tony."

I glanced at the screen and I didn't even know what she was spelling but I didn't argue. Instead I leaned over her, arms around each side, as we do- our own personal game of who can make the other more uncomfortable. For added measure I placed my face level with hers and began to manipulate the mouse.

Ziva, in return, shifted closer to my chest and put her cheek next to mine.

Great. I was losing my own game. I gritted my teeth and scrolled through the menus until I came across the one labeled "Auto Complete". Grinning stupidly I unchecked the correct box. "Ah-ha!"

She typed her word but this time it just underlined the offensive thing instead of changing it. "You did it," she said, sounding surprised.

I turned my head in as she looked at me. I gave her a smirk. "I am good for some things, you know."

Our faces were close but I could see her smirk in return.

"What are you two doing?" McGee's voice broke through our concentration.

I turned my head towards him. "Ziva was just about to congratulate me on fixing her computer."

McGee's baby face showed an expression of horror. "_You_ fixed a computer?"

"It's true," Ziva backed me up. "The corrections were really getting up my crawfish."

I snorted. "It's just 'craw'. The Auto Complete was getting up her craw."

She shifted her seat so I stood and casually leaned against her desk. "That makes no sense," she complained.

"Neither does 'crawfish'," I stupidly argued with the Mossad.

"At least a crawfish is an actual _thing_," commented the irritated officer.

McGee jumped in. "Actually, Ziva, the word 'craw' goes back to the 14th century--"

"Shut up, McGee," we said together.

He was immediately quiet, the next second I found out why. A slap hit the back of my head signifying the arrival of out boss, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, who had either the unfortunate luck of having that name as was extremely lucky to have a name no one else had guaranteed.

"Well, what are you three doing just sitting there?" he asked, gruffly. "We've got a dead Marine. Gear up."

Ziva gave me another smirk as I scooted across the pen to grab my gear. As I followed the team to the elevator the truth that I had discovered several weeks ago hit my gut again, as it did every time she smiled/smirked/glared/looked at me.

I was in love with my partner.


	2. Chapter 2

Dead Marine summed the case up nicely from where I was standing. The Dead Marine appeared to be bludgeoned to death although our ME Ducky would confirm or deny that.

I had been designated sketch artist by default. Kate had been the true artist in our familia but I had drawn before her arrival so I drew after her death.

McGee was taking pictures, Ziva was combing the apartment, Gibbs was being Gibbs.

"With the mess," I said, pointing to what used to be his face, "somebody had to have heard something."

Ziva poked her head out from the kitchen. "I would hit him in the back of the head first. He drop without a sound then I d finish the job."

I raised my eyebrows. "With comments like that I'm never turning my back on you again."

She gave me a wicked Mossad grin then disappeared again.

I looked once more at the pulp that once had features. "That was overkill. That kind of rage is personal."

"DiNozzo!"

I snapped to attention. "Yeah, Boss?"

"If you're done flapping your gums take McGee and interview the neighbors."

"On it, Boss."

The blond across the hall was the most helpful. "I, like, see Duane going in and out all the time. I always notice him because he looks so hot in uniform."

"Was there other hot guys in uniform?" McGee asked.

I shot him a look. Did he not realize how gay that sounded?"

The blond thought for a moment. "Nope. Usually it's just Kirby. Duane says he's like his 'business partner'." She used her fingers as quotes as she giggled. "That's how he says it. Cute, huh!" Then she gasped and McGee and I both jumped. "Oh my God. Is Duane, like, alright or whatever?"

I resisted the urge to answer her with, "Or whatever," and just answered truthfully. "I'm sorry, ma'am, Lance-Corporal Mara is dead."

She blinked. "Poor Kirby."

McGee nodded. "Do you know where we can find Kirby?"

"Or even what the rest of his name is?" I muttered.

She heard me. "Kirby Granger. That's all I know." She reached out and took one of my hands in both of hers. "Please let him know before someone else does."

A throat being cleared behind us made McGee and I turn. Ziva was standing in Mara's doorway. She glanced at the blond briefly. "Gibbs wants you," she told us. As I passed Ziva hissed at me. "Holding witness' hands new procedure?"

I leered at her. "Jealous?"

"Of that bobim?"

"It's bimbo," I corrected, unable to stop my smile.

She glared. "Do not laugh at me," she warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Hey!" Gibbs stepped out of the other room to glare at both of us. "If you two are done jawing we've got work to do."

She sailed past me with her head in the air. I walked after her with a pretty good imitation which earned me an elbow to the gut though she couldn't have seen me.

Drugs. Cocaine by the looks of it. The bedroom had been trashed.

I looked to McGee. "Guess now we know what Kirby Granger was a business partner of."

Drugs. I hated drug cases. I thought about the pulverized body in the front room. Drug cases were always messy.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Last night's epi was stressful! Next week will kill me. But TIVA is not dead!**

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"Kirby Granger, civilian," McGee announced with aplomb or aplumage or whatever fancy word fit McGee.

Granger's mug shot graced our screen. "Has quite a rap," I commented as Gibbs awaited our information. "Theft of property, B & E, grand theft auto. Starting at the ripe age of 16."

Gibbs lifted his eyebrows at us. "How did this guy know our dead Marine?"

Ziva took the screen clicker from McGee to pull her display up. "High school classmates. Granger's record kept him from enlisting."

"So, where is he?"

I bounced to attention. "Address on Broad Street, Boss," I told him as I held out the post-it note with the information as an offering.

He nearly sneered at me. "Well?"

"Uh," I said as I thought what he could possibly want from me.

"Find him and bring him in, DiNozzo," he told me.

"On it, Boss." I grabbed my gear out of habit.

"Take David with you."

She was closer to him and the recipient of the vehicle keys.

We made it to Granger's house in one piece somehow, although I had to pry my fingers off of the dashboard. I had to sit for a minute to catch my breath. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," she said then laughed at her cleverness.

I had to fight the immediate urge to roll my eyes. Don't do it, DiNozzo, I warned myself. Roll your eyes, lose a limb. Instead, I glared as we got out of the car. "Is there a particular reason you have a death wish when it comes to driving?"

Ziva shrugged. "It just happens to be the way I like to drive."

"I see. Well, I'd prefer if you wouldn't give the finger to the Grim Reaper while I'm along for the ride. I'm too young to die."

At the door she patted my cheek. "And too pretty, yes?"

Someone answered the door- clearly _not_ Kirby if the mug shot was accurate. "Help ya?" the sleepy kid asked as he leaned against the open door.

"Is Kirby in?" I asked with an easy smile. It was never fun to run after suspects.

The boy flinched but narrowed his eyes. "Who's Kirby?"

I thought he was lying. I glanced to Ziva- the lie detector master.

She flashed him a smile that dazzled him. "Relax. We were invited. We have some business with him."

Something in her voice must have calmed him and he accepted the words as truth. "Kirby ain't here."

"Do you know when he'll be back?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Didn't come home last night but that ain't different for him. Could come at anytime now."

I touched Ziva's arm. "Guess we got the wrong time, sweet cheeks."

"Happens, man," the unnamed name agreed.

"Thanks for your help. We'll come back later," I told him, pushing my luck as I placed my arm around Ziva's shoulders.

"Cool," was the stoner's response as he closed the door.

As we turned away I started to remove my arm before I lost my appendage.

"No," Ziva said as she put _her_ arm around my waist. "He might be watching."

My body quivered as the chills- for lack of a better word- ran all through my body. I struggled to act my usual self and hoped my voice did not betray me. I leaned my head close. "How can someone so little be so menacing?"

She stopped us and turned to look at me. She moved her arms around my neck as she stepped closer. Her face was coming towards mine.

I froze... the only thing moving was the butterflies in my stomach. Get a grip, DiNozzo!"

She brushed her cheek against mine, feeling her soft skin. "I believe," she whispered closely in my ear, "the expression is size doesn't matter."

I was forced to retaliate. I leaned slightly forward. "It's a shame you feel that way."

She backed up some to look at me. Our faces were inches apart. "And what exactly are you referring to, Tony?"

I smiled, fighting to keep myself calm. "Do you suppose we should kiss for the Peeking Tom?

She studied my features for what seemed like forever but was truly just seconds. "I think we have convinced out audience." She pulled back but took my hand to hold on the walk to the car. "We should call Gibbs."

I swallowed hard. Gibbs never responded well to failure. "You call."

Her eyebrows rose. "Tony, I did not know you were a rooster."

"Um, I think you mean chicken and I'm not. I just don't really want a verbal Gibbs-slap at this point today."

She considered what I said. "You are lucky I like you sometimes," she said as she retrieved her phone from his hidden pocket.

While she was detracted trying to word out slight setback, I pulled a smooth move from a movie to retrieve the car keys.

"Yes, Gibbs. We will do what we can."

As she closed her phone I raised my eyebrows in interest. "What did you just volunteer us to do?"

She grimaced. "We must stay here until Granger returns."

I grinned. "Excellent."

I received a frown. "How is an outsteak 'excellent'?"

"Stakeout," I automatically corrected. "I'll make the food run."

"Why?"

"Haven't you ever been on a stakeout? Could last forever. We may get hungry."

"Fine," she finally grumbled. "I will stay and watch." She glared. "Be quick about this run."

"Yep," I said before whistling my way to the driver's seat.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Traumatized by the finale...guess I have to write about happier times! I accept the challenge. **

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"Several hours in a car stuck with Mr. Movie Encyclopedia," Ziva complained as she crossed her arms and leaned back in the passenger seat.

"Well, sorry!" I told her as I, too, sat back. "I thought the subtle change of _Fast & Furious_ for the third installation was just short of genius."

"Just because the people could not come up with a new title does not classify it as 'genius'," she argued.

"It gets the point across plain and simple."

"The audience that they cater to will not understand."

"A fan understands."

She shifted and relaxed her arms. "A movie of any kind is meant to attract new viewers no matter which 'installation' it is. Confusing the simple people will not make the numbers grow."

I pointed at her. "I think that people will go to see it confusion or not. Curiosity is a factor."

She pointed back. "Curiosity killed the kitten." She paused. "Is that correct?"

I smiled. "Cat but same animal."

"Cat," she repeated to catch in her vocabulary. She may mess up phrases but she never repeated the mistake. Sometimes I wondered if she did some on purpose. Perhaps another game between us that McKnow-it-all jumped in at times.

We were quiet for a moment, watching the designated house from a far.

Ziva broke the silence. "I suppose I am a _cat_."

I snorted. "Curious about the movie?"

I saw her smile from her side view. "Vin Diesel," she confessed.

I had to laugh. "Ho ho! So the truth comes out! Ziva likes a man with muscles who can kick ass. I can see that."

I thought I detected a slight blush on her cheeks. "He has a well tones physique. I would enjoy a good hand to hand with him."

I grinned. "I bet. You know his name is Mark Vincent."

She glanced at me. "You are full of such odd information."

I tapped my head. "All stored away."

She smirked. "With all that uselessness I am surprised you can retain anything that is pertinent."

I know you prefer hot tea over coffee. I know a tank top and cargo pants are your comfort wardrobe. I know you like your hair down but the necessity of the job had it up. But that's not what I said. What I said was, "I know enough."

She just lifted an eyebrow and looked ahead.

I smiled as I followed her lead.

Nearly against her will we had a long conversation about nothing. What a pair we made.


	5. Chapter 5

No matter how glorious movies made a stakeout to be, the movies sometimes lied. I was on plenty of them when I was in the police force and they were all the same. Watching until your eyes are crossed. Mind starts to wander about irrelevant things. You have to go to the bathroom...

"Why would someone go to a Starbucks and order regular coffee?" I asked not long after day turned to duck.

Ziva broke herself out of her daze. "I am hungry."

I gestured with my thumb. "Back seat."

She tried to reach the bags of junk food from her seat but couldn't quite get them. Determined, she crawled on the armrest to see what I had bought. "Stop," she growled.

I turned my view to look at her glaring over her shoulder. "What?"

"Stop looking at my butt, DiNozzo."

There was no point in denying it. "Well, if you'd get your butt out of my face then I wouldn't be tempted to look, David."

She twitched her hips for a good measure of my distraction. Then she found hers. "Ah!"

Eyes forward like a good boy, just cutting them to the side enough not to get caught, I smiled. "Find something?"

She popped back into her seat, a pack of white powdered doughnuts in each hand. She gave me a victorious smile.

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you like those too?"

She suddenly glared and clutched them to her.

I held my hands up in defeat. "Have them." I let her open one pack of five mini cakes before asking my question. "What time is McQueenie coming?"

She had crammed one powdered mess in her mouth so she held up 9 fingers.

I rubbed the back of my neck. A little under one hour to go. "I can't believe we've wasted a whole day waiting for this guy to come back and now we're wasting a whole night."

She licked her lips and grabbed another pastry. "I am sure whatever _bim_bo you are seeing tonight will understand."

A brief thought entered my mind that _she_ was the only one I was seeing tonight but luckily the switch between my brain and my mouth was severed as I realized how that could be taken and how she could probably kill me twenty different ways with that doughnut cellophane. "No one tonight," I muttered.

She cocked her head to the side to look at me. "You have been doing that lately."

"Seeing nobody? Yes, I have," I lied.

She shook her head. "I mean you have been seeming to think something then not say it."

So she did notice. "Have I? I haven't noticed myself."

"What are you hiding, Tony?" she asked quietly.

I grimaced, not looking at her. "Now is not the time to discuss this."

"We _will_ discuss this," she told me. Then she held out the package as a peace offering.

I waved my hand. "No, thanks. I don't really like them."

She looked at me funny before shifting in her seat. "Now is the time for the restroom."

I grinned as I got out of the car. "The store is about a block down to the right," I told her as she sat behind the wheel.

I watched her drive off, gunning the engine. I sat on the curb after a moment and placed my arms on my knees while I casually watched in Granger's direction.

Ziva was gone about two minutes when the sound of footsteps told me I had company.

"Hey, man!" Several men were approaching me from the opposite side of the road.

I stood and wiped off my butt to see casual. "Hi," I said, half-heartedly, waving a hand in the air.

There were three of them, two middle sized guys my height and one huge guy. One middle guy I recognized. He was the one who spoke. "What are you doing here, man?"

I shrugged. "My girl and I got into a fight and she dumped me here. It happens. She'll be back soon."

Granger took a step forward. "You the couple looking for me?"

"Guilty," I admitted.

"You've been here all day." It wasn't a question.

"See," I said, "we drove quite a ways so we decide to camp out. Plus, my girl is her freakiest when we might get caught, you know?"

Granger glared at me. "I don't know you."

My hands came up in front of me. "No, you don't. A mutual friend sent us. Duane Mara."

Granger laughed. "Ain't this priceless. Duane tried to cheat me out of tons of money yet he still sends suckers to me to give more money for him to steal." He abruptly got silent. "Duane's dead."

I blinked and shifted my feet. He killed him or had him killed, I suddenly thought. My money was on the first. Otherwise, he wouldn't know Mara was dead.

Granger suddenly produced a gun and pointed it straight at me. "You weren't surprised about that statement."

I stuck my hands higher up to show I poised no threat. Damnit, my gun was stuffed in the back of my pants when I had gotten out of the car. Ok, I just had to stall until Ziva came back. "Hey, man, I was there this morning. You did a hell of a job on him. He must have really pissed you off but if he was stealing money I can't blame you. My girl remembered your name so we come to get our fix, that's all. You don't want to do business, that's fine. No hard feelings."

He kept his gun trained on me. "Search him," he told his heavies.

I was patted down, thankful my wallet was in the glove compartment of the car. My gun, of course, was found. Where the hell was Ziva?

"Well, well," Granger said, "who exactly are you?"

I forced a grin. "Just a concerned citizen who carries because of such a high crime rate in the city." The sound of a fast approaching car made me relax.

Granger heard it too. "I've decided not to do business with you."

The guy with my gun was still beside me. I took advantage of his lack of interest and threw a punch to steal my gun back. A gun went off, I gave an answering shot and Granger went down.

A gunfight was always confusing and rarely lasted long. I did comprehend the sound of squealing tires, more shots, then suddenly it was over.

"Tony?" Ziva's voice came through the ringing in my ears.

I felt tired as my adrenaline left my body, so I sat back down on the curb and looked around at the three bodies lying in the street. "What a mess, huh."

She sat down next to me. "Help is on the way."

"Help? We won."

"Tony, you are hurt."

"What?" I laughed then looked down. My white button down shirt had red blossoming on my abdomen. "Must be from that guy." As I said that, however, the dull ache I had associated with a general fight turned into a fiery one.

Ziva kneeled in front of me and unbuttoned my shirt.

"Now is definitely not the time for that," I attempted to joke.

She didn't comment at that but hissed as she peeled back the cloth. "Be right back."

I glanced down. And wobbled.

Ziva was immediately there, pressing my discarded coat painfully against me. "Tony?"

"I feel sick," I told her, starting to feel lightheaded.

"Well, you have been shot," she said in her no-nonsense voice. "Lie down. It will help."

I was staring at the stars in the sky as she continued to staunch the blood as she crouched at my side. My teeth started to chatter as a chill ran through my body but it was the numbness where the fire had been that scared me. "Ziv?"

Her face entered my view. "Yes, Tony?"

I found my right hand still responded and reached out to touch her face. I barely felt her skin. "I am glad you're here with me."

She reached up and clasped my hand in hers. "The medics will be here soon."

She was holding my hand even as she tried to keep me from bleeding to death. "How bad is it?" I asked, feeling more and more tired.

Her eyes flickered before she smirked. "I have seen worse."

I started struggling to keep my eyes open. "Ziva?"

"I am here, Tony."

I tried to focus on her face. "I have to tell you something."

She shook her head. "We will talk later. Now you just concentrate."

It was taking longer for me to respond. "I'm trying."

She looked at me fiercely. "Try harder, Tony. Do _not_ give up on me."

"Ziva..."

"Tony! Wake up! They are almost here. Stay here for me!"

I couldn't open my eyes. I put all effort into the next three whispered words. "I love you."

Just before everything faded I thought I head soft words. "I love you as well." I carried them with me into the darkness.


	6. Epilogue

**A/N: I thought an epilogue was in order. In Ziva's POV, of course. **

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Funerals had been an unfortunate part of all of my life. Israel had a harsh mortality rate. Mossad even more so. While in the United States I had avoided falling into that way but people- coworkers still fell in the line of duty.

As I walked towards the coffin that laid open people saw me and moved out of the way as if they knew who I was. I refused to look in their sympatric eyes and concentrated on the man who I had never seen so still lie in the open casket.

I started down at him and took a moment as tears threatened to fall. When I could speak without fear of breaking down I leaned over and kissed his smooth forehead. "I should have told you more that I loved you."

I straightened and a supporting arm wrapped around my waist. I leaned into the embrace. "He knew," was whispered into my ear.

I glanced up at Tony who had come with me despite the fact he was still recovering from his gun shot wound. "How do you know?" I asked as I let him guild me away from the casket.

I allowed him to brush his fingered against my cheek because he enjoyed doing it and I enjoyed letting him. "Ziva, he was your father."

I made him sit down in one of the few chairs while I prepared myself to receive the people's words. "You look pale," I explained to him.

"Hey! Don't leave me," he said. "No one speaks English!"

I leaned down and kissed his very kissable lips. "I will be here with you always," I promised and meant every bit of it.

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**Author Afterthought: I am thinking of trying something different if you are game. I would like to accept ideas...who wants to play...**


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